Long Distance
by pastries and turtlenecks
Summary: Chris thought he could handle a week away from James.


A dusty old grandfather clock ticked in the background of the otherwise silent Maine basement, each staccato _tock_ grating on Chris's nerves. He stared up at the ceiling, lying uncomfortably on the pull-out sofa in his aunt's basement. His cousin Chelsea had just gotten married that afternoon, and the ceremony was beautiful, but the reception was tiring. Everybody else in the house – his parents, his aunt and uncle, and his younger cousin – were sound asleep, but Chris found himself unable to drift off.

Against his better judgment, he'd let a few of the groomsmen talk him into taking advantage of the open bar at the reception. He didn't have enough to get as drunk as the best man (and judging by his barely-coherent speech, he was awfully drunk), but enough to make him realize that James's drinks were _much_ better.

That thought led to the realization that he wouldn't be seeing James for three more days, which led to the worst realization of all: that he really, really missed his boyfriend.

Chris felt around the cold, bare side of the mattress that he left open by habit, searching for his phone. The screen lit up and the glow stung at his eyes, previously adjusted to the dark. 2:15 am. James rarely went to bed before one, and considering the time difference, he was probably still awake. Chris propped himself up on his elbows, squinting at the screen as he tapped out a message to James.

** To James: I miss you.**

He sighed and flopped back on the pillow, letting his phone fall to his chest. James was probably out with friends or playing X-Box like a loser or just generally doing something fun, while Chris desperately tried to get some sleep.

This thought was why he nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise when his phone buzzed on his chest. He scrambled to read the message:

**From James: I miss you too, now go to sleep.**

Chris smiled, leave it to James to try and get him to be responsible.

**To James: I'm trying but I can't. I miss you too much.**

He sighed again and set the phone back on the mattress, pressing his palms into his eyes. Normally he had no trouble falling asleep. Ten minutes and he was out like a light. Of course, normally he had James's strong arms wrapped around him, and James's warm chest to snuggle into. Now, all he had were cold bed sheets.

The grandfather clock continued to tick, and Chris glanced impatiently at his phone. James was certainly taking his time with replying. Chris was about to check to make sure his last message had sent – he was pretty high up in the mountains, after all – when the phone buzzed again.

**From James: Is everyone else asleep?**

Chris raised an eyebrow before tapping out a reply.

**To James: I think so, why?**

This time, the response was almost immediate. Chris had barely set the phone down when it began buzzing once more, but this time it was longer than the short text notice. The screen lit up with the sentence, 'Call from James'.

Chris rolled his eyes and held the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"I want to try something," was all he got from the other end of the line.

Suddenly interested, Chris sat up and leaned against the back of the couch. "What do you mean?"

"I really miss you," came James's reply.

"I really miss you too," Chris parroted, "but I think we've established that already."

James let out a sigh. "I mean," he began, "I really, _really_ miss you."

Chris paused for a moment, before smirking and raising an eyebrow. "Oh really?" he asked, trying to keep his voice soft. "Exactly how much do you miss me?"

He was surprised to hear a soft groan before James replied, "So much."

"Gosh, James," he said, doing his best to sound surprised, "it's only been, what, four days, and you're already this desperate?"

"Shut up," James said gruffly, "and don't try to tell me you're any better off."

"I'll have you know that I'm perfectly fine and –"

"Is that why you're breathing heavily?" James cut him off, and Chris could practically _hear_ the smirk in his voice.

Damn James and his damn sexy voice.

"Anyway," Chris said, not acknowledging James's comment, "what do you plan on doing about it? We're like, 1800 miles apart."

There was silence again, before James softly answered, "Close your eyes."

"What for?"

"I said I want to try something. You trust me, right?"

"Of course."

"Then just close your eyes and do what I tell you to, alright?"

Chris hesitated for a moment before shutting his eyes. "Okay, now what?"

"Now just imagine I'm there with you, okay?"

Chris raised an eyebrow and almost burst out laughing. "Are you trying to have phone sex with me?"

"Would you rather I hang up?" James growled.

A wave of heat shot to Chris's groin at James's tone. "N-no, sorry…" he apologized.

"I thought not," James answered huskily. "Now just do it. Pretend I'm there with you."

Chris took a deep breath and relaxed back into the couch, concentrating on James. It shouldn't be too hard, he's spent almost every night for the past three years curled up into his side, feeling his hands running through his hair –

_There_. There he was. "Alright, now what?"

"Now just tell me exactly what you'd do with me if I was there. We have all night. You can do whatever you want."

Something about James's tone just sent Chris's heart beating faster. Maybe it was the exciting unfamiliarity of it all. Maybe it was the fact that he could tell his boyfriend was_ incredibly_ turned on.

"Oh, I… First, I would kiss you, _hard_, you – you always do this thing with your tongue that's just so… Ugh, it turns me on so much, you know? And you would run your hands all over me; they're so strong and warm and just – mmm."

"Yeah, through your hair, down your back, up your shirt – why are you even wearing a shirt, anyway?"

"Oh," Chris began, reaching with his free hand to lift the hem of his shirt. He stopped as he got an idea. "Why don't you take it off for me?" he asked, his voice sounding sultry.

He practically heard James whine at the suggestion. "God, Chris – you're probably wearing that stupid princess shirt Kevin got for you at Disney. I want it off."

Chris finished lifting the shirt over his head, and certainly wasn't going to let James know he was indeed, wearing that shirt. "Don't talk about Kevin right now," he growled, "just tell me what you're doing."

He heard James let out a shaky breath before continuing. "Ah, I would kiss down your neck, that spot right below your ear, I'd leave the _biggest_ bruise there, just so you'd have to awkwardly explain it to your family."

"You're awful," Chris breathed, "but don't stop."

"Then I would keep moving down, down your chest, over your stomach," Chris lightly trailed his own hand down the path James was describing, "I'd leave a mark on each hipbone, it wouldn't be hard, you're so pale," James teased. Chris ignored the comment and instead focused on the sultry sound of his boyfriend's voice, practically whimpering as he vividly imagined everything James narrated.

His hand slowly drifted lower and lower until he was softly cupping the bulge in his thin pajama pants. "And then what?"

Again, he could almost hear James smirking. "Take off your pants for me, Chris, but leave the underwear on."

"Oh, um…"

There was a pause before James chuckled softly. "You're not wearing any, are you?" Chris's soft whimper was all he needed to hear. "Shit, Chris, you're at your family's house, have you no shame?" he teased.

"That's rich coming from the guy who initiated phone sex."

"Shut up," James snapped, and Chris did as he was told, "do you want me to suck your cock or not?"

Chris's breath hitched in his throat at the threat. "Oh god, James, I do," he said desperately.

"How badly?"

"Fuck, James, _so_ badly," he replied softly, suddenly aware once more of where he was and who else was in the house. His fingertips brushed below his waistband, as if waiting for the go-ahead from James. "I need you so badly."

"If you insist," James teased. "Just tell me what you want me to do."

Finally his free hand slipped into his pants, his fingertips lightly brushing against his already-hard length. "Mmm, oh god, I want you to start at the tip, I want you to tease me just a _little_," he began; delicately letting his fingers act out his descriptions. "Just – just lick around the head a bit, oh, like that," his breath hitched in his throat as his fingers skillfully moved along his cock. He could practically see James lying nestled between his thighs, looking up at him through his lashes, studying his face for reactions – "Nnnh, oh _fuck_, I want you to take it all in now, as far as you can go," he choked out at the image.

He heard James groan on the other end and Chris couldn't help himself, he wrapped his hand around his dick and stroked desperately, far too turned on. "Ah, Chris, I can feel it at the back of my throat," Chris had to bite his lip to keep from crying out at James's sinfully erotic words. "Mmm, just fuck my mouth, Chris; I need you to – _ah_!"

Chris let out a soft moan before he could stop himself, arching his back slightly. He paused to slip his pants further down his thighs and worked on kicking them off as he went back to imagining James's lips wrapped around his cock, his face screwed up in arousal and discomfort at how _deep_ Chris was, shit he was so _deep_, and Chris's soft moans became higher in pitch and frequency.

"Don't you dare come yet," James reprimanded, well aware of what those noises usually meant. "I'm not done with you."

A wave of heat shot through Chris's veins at his words, and he forced himself to let go of his length with a soft whine. "D-do whatever you want, oh god James, just don't stop," he pleaded.

James hummed in approval, and Chris could hear him shift on whatever he was sitting on – the bed, maybe? The image of James lying spread eagle, totally exposed on their bed – Chris groaned softly at the thought. "Fuck, Chris, I wanna feel you pressed up to me, your cock rubbing against mine," James began, and Chris could have sworn he broke the skin on his bottom lip from biting it too hard. He felt his hips subconsciously move back and forth, rubbing against unseen skin, creating unbearable friction from just the _thought_ of James hovering over him.

"Ah, oh god, you're so hard, James," Chris cooed, arching his back off the mattress. His hand found its place on his cock once more and he began stroking up and down again, rubbing his thumb over the tip. He could practically feel James's chest rubbing against his own, sweaty skin on sweaty skin. "Fuck, right there," he encouraged into the phone that he was surprised he could still hold.

He heard James let out a particularly long, loud moan, and Chris had to hold the phone away from his ear a bit to keep it at a comfortable volume. "Nngh, Chris, shit, I'm so _close_," he whined into the phone, sending electric shocks through Chris's veins.

"Mmm, me too," he replied.

"You h-have no idea what I'm gon-ahh, Chris-gonna do to you when you get back," James got out, his voice going up in pitch.

"O-oh god, I can't fucking wait, James," Chris replied, feeling himself about to fall over the edge.

"Come, _now_," James growled, and the pure sound of _lust_ in his voice sent Chris headfirst into bliss, crying out into the phone, hearing unmistakable sounds from the other end that meant James was coming as well. Their soft moans mixed together until they turned to labored panting, both men trying to come down from their highs.

Finally there was silence, save for the ever-present ticking of the grandfather clock.

"Shit," James broke the comfortable silence. "It's like, three am there now. You need to go to sleep."

"Mmm, but I don't wanna, I just wanna cuddle with you," Chris replied, sounding sleepy. "Is that a thing? Phone-cuddling?"

James laughed softly. "You're tired, I know when you're tired. Just go to sleep, Chris. I love you."

"I love you too…" Chris replied. "I'll see you in three days, okay?"

"Three days. G'night, love."

"G'night," Chris said through a yawn, and finally they two hung up.

He laid back down reaching over for his shirt to clean himself up (he never really liked that shirt, anyway) and pulled his pants back on, wanting to be at least halfway decent should his younger cousin come wake him up. Once more he was alone with the tick-tock of the clock, and somehow, he missed James even more.


End file.
